I learned something new this weekend about Mr. Serious.
He doesn’t like cookie dough (or brownie batter for that matter). This is odd, no?
And, remember, he isn’t “Mr. Serious” because he is serious… he is Mr. Serious because Mr. Really, Are You Serious? is just too dang long.
So, since I am still learning new things about him (even after 11 years), I’m starting to wonder, is there anything you want to know about him, directly from him? It could be fun, right?
So, a couple things, though. You know, rule like things. Our families read this, so please keep that in mind. And, of course, when I asked him about doing this (he really didn’t say “yes”) he said “I only answer what I want!” Fair enough I say.
So, ask away. I’ll leave it open for a while and we’ll see what we can all learn about Mr. Serious together.
Earlier this week, I went out with some girl friends to hang out and have a glass of wine.
We were chatting about the usual; kids, vacations, husbands, cleaning, etc. Your typical night out.
Except, I learned something. Something that I’m quite baffled and surprised by.
Some of them mentioned that they hide things from their husbands; things like clothes, shoe and purse purchases. Literally, they hide them. Not just not tell them, but they have hiding places so their husbands don’t find out.
And, on the rare chance they do find out, they admitted to lying to their spouses/significant others.
I’m not judging. I just don’t get it.
I didn’t understand this idea.
I still don’t understand this idea.
I said this to my friends. I told them I have never had to lie about a purchase. They told me I am lucky because Mr. Serious doesn’t get upset at me for buying things. They said their husbands get upset with them and give them a hard time.
I countered that I am a very frugal person and he knows if I buy something that I think it was a good deal and he usually tells me how proud he is of me for getting such a good deal.
Maybe it’s because I’m not an impulse buyer, so I think about my purchases before I make them. Most of the time actually doing research to find the best deal.
Maybe I am lucky that Mr. Serious does not care about a shoe purchase or a pair of jeans. Maybe he’s lucky that I wouldn’t lie about it.
Honesty is one of the rocks of our relationship and I like it that way.
So, I put this out to you: Do you lie to your husband? About clothing purchases or shoes? About your kids? About what you had for lunch?
Feel free to go anonymous if you are truly worried about it. But, I’d really like to know; are Mr. Serious and I a rarity or the norm?
This year for Father’s Day, Mr. Serious got some very special artwork. Two years ago, I did some artwork for Mr. Serious for Father’s Day and he loved it.
I painted this canvas, and put some cute Izzy foot prints and pictures on it for him to take to work. It was also framed, but I don’t have a picture of that. I also did a collage for the house.
So, this year, I had to do the same thing. And, one easy thing about having your kids’ birthdays one day apart? They are the same age on holidays (roughly).
But, there was a twist. This year, Isabelle got to paint the canvas. And while it doesn’t look like it, they are the same colors. It also has Natalie’s cute footprints this time and pictures. And, of course, there is now a collage wall hanging for the house.
Of course, Mr. Serious loved them. Izzy presented the canvas to him saying “here daddy, I painted this for you!” She has been wanting to paint non-stop ever since.
At his request, after church and nap time, we headed up to the pool for a swim in what felt like bath water.
He and Izzy had a great time. She kept jumping in the water and was even trying to swim to us. I never would have guessed my water fearing baby from last year would be such a fish this year.
Happy Father’s Day, babe. You are the best father the girls could ever ask for.
Mr. Serious was joking with me the other night, and called himself “Mr. Serious.”
He wanted to make sure that my readers knew that he wasn’t all that serious most of the time.
I then, paused to digest it, laughed out loud and explained.
“Honey, it is not because you are serious all the time, I just didn’t want to write out ‘Mr. Really, Are You Serious?’ or “Mr. RAYS” every time I blogged about you.”
And, then I realized, you all might think the same thing.
So, just to let you know, Mr. Serious…he isn’t so serious.
See? Definitely not serious!
And, now, even though he knew I was going to put this picture up on the blog…I bet he had no idea I was going to use it here!
So, here’s me redeeming myself to show you how handsome he is!
(I know this is a longer post for me, but please read it!! I think you’ll thank me!!)
Last night was probably one of the best mommy moments I’ve had in a long time, if not ever.
Isabelle played with me. I mean really played with me.
After dinner, Isabelle wanted to play. She was sitting on the floor with her Leapfrog alphabet fridge toy. All of the letters were lined up on the floor. She was telling me the letters and the ones she didn’t know.
Then, she decided she needed something. So she told “I go in the living room. I be right back.”
She went to the toys and brought one back. A little toy car.
She pushed it to me. I pushed it back to her. We did this for at least 15 minutes. Back and forth. If I did it well, she said “good job, mommy.” Other times, she would crawl to go get it.
Apparently, pushing the car backwards is not acceptable, either. “No, mommy, like this. No backwards” and she pushed the car back to me the right way.
Did I mention it was fun, because it really was.
After the day was over and the kids were in bed, Mr. Serious handed me our reading for Sunday school class. It is from The Life You’ve Always Wanted: Spiritual Disciplines for Ordinary People by John Ortberg. 
He told me I had to read one paragraph. And it was so good, I’m going to type it out here for you.
“I look in on them as they sleep at night, and I remember how the day really went: I remember how they were trapped in a fight over checkers and I walked out of the room because I didn’t want to spend the energy needed to teach them how to resolve conflict. I remember how my daughter spilled cherry punch at dinner and I yelled at her about being careful as if she’s revealed some deep character flaw; I yelled at her even though I spill things all the time and no one yells at me; I yelled at her-to tell the truth-simply because I’m big and she’s little and I can get away with it. And then I saw that look of hurt and confusion in her eyes, and I knew there was a tiny wound on her heart that I had put there, and I wished I could have taken those sixty seconds back. I remember how at night I didn’t have slow, sweet talks, but merely rushed the children to bed so I could have more time to myself. I’m disappointed.”
At that moment, all of the times I yelled at her or got on her during that short morning and afternoon time I get to spend with her were amplified. She was whining, fussing, crying, and I got on her. She spilled her cereal, and I got on her. She didn’t want to go potty when I took her, and I got on her.
So, my hope for the day/week/month, even hour, is that we won’t get quite as disappointed with ourselves today as we did yesterday.
We will take that extra moment to teach a lesson, get a cuddle, or read a book. We shouldn’t be disappointed at the end of a long, hard day. We should be satisfied. We should demand more, not of our kids or our spouses, but of ourselves.
